


Deep Waters

by mswyrr



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Bisexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, Catholic Character, Consensual Kink, F/M, Femdom, Kink Negotiation, POV Character of Color, Pegging, male submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-04-01 23:21:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4038499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mswyrr/pseuds/mswyrr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-season 1. Matt and Claire, falling in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deep Waters

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to thefullmooninautumn for hand-holding me through writing this and merdeandmore for encouraging me! Kink note: Claire's using a [Feeldoe](http://i.imgur.com/OUdJMTT.jpg) combined with a [Midori scarf harness](http://girlslikethis.tumblr.com/post/2715161172/more-scarf-harness-inspired-by-midori).

* * *

 

Claire loved her job. But after a long week of even longer shifts, the thing she loved best was getting to leave it behind for a light summer dress and a concert in the park with Matt. They got a slice and, as they walked to the park, a triple fudge brownie ice cream cone, which was shared easily between them. They both liked Afro-Latin Jazz. When the cone was gone, Matt reached over, easy as you please, and took her hand as they listened. Sitting there, hand in hand, was even sweeter than the ice cream.

On the walk back, she shivered in the cooling evening and he gave her his jacket. He was in a nice blue button down shirt and grey slacks that hugged his ass, which she admired as he did the gentlemanly thing. Claire smiled, feeling the music still moving between them as they walked, his arm resting gently against her arm. “Can you dance?”

“I think I could. But I never learned -- it doesn’t exactly fit my cover story.”

“Mm,” Claire said. “That’s a shame. Maybe I could teach you some moves,” she said, giving the words a sultry twist.

“I like it when you teach me moves,” he quipped. And then grinned, clearly pleased with what he sensed of her reaction.

That earned him a nudge in the shoulder and put an extra bounce in Claire’s step.

-

The summer dress had been carefully chosen. It was a cheerful yellow and white pattern, and felt soft to the touch. The pattern was for her; the texture was for Matt. As she spread her legs over Matt’s firm thighs on the couch and felt his warm, calloused fingers trace up under her skirt, she sighed happily. The dress was easily accessible to hands and lips too.

That part was for both of them.

Matt’s perpetual stubble was on the longer side today, and less scratchy. She stroked his face and pressed her lips against his, at first soft, then firmer. His mouth opened under her as his thumbs traced circles against her thighs and she pushed her tongue between his lips, tasting him, warm and wet and the lingering flavor of triple chocolate fudge ice cream.

Making out there in the dark, time seemed to slow and speed up all at once. She unbuttoned Matt’s shirt and pushed it back, pressing herself against his warm, smooth skin as they kissed. His hands found their way deeper under her skirt, tortuously slow and also just right. When his fingers stroked her pussy through her new silk panties, Claire gasped and thrust against him, deepening the kiss, and then pulled back.

“We should move this to the bedroom,” she said.

“We should,” Matt agreed, stroking her arm.

“Um.” It was nice being lost in the dark with him a minute ago, but now…

“You never turned on the lights,” he observed.

“No.”

“Why?”

“I was…” she started to say ‘distracted’ and then thought better of it. It was partly the truth, so it wouldn’t necessarily set off his inner lie detector. But she kind of wanted him to know, “--curious,” she said.

“Curious,” he repeated. “About me?”

She suddenly wished she could read his expression. “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” he said, kissing her forehead. “But it’s not the same, you know? When you’re in the dark, it’s not the same way I feel.”

“I know, but I’ve been thinking about how things smell or feel and when you take my arm, when we’re out...” She bit her lip and committed to pushing it. “If we went to bed now, you’d have to guide me.” She felt her breath speed up, wondering if it would make sense, what she was trying to do, or if he’d be offended.

He was quiet for what felt like forever. “I’ve never done that,” he said, and she heard a smile in his voice. “What if I’m really bad at it?” he added. His voice lowered, “What if I keep stopping to kiss you?”

Claire laughed. “Or feel me up?”

“I don’t think it’s good guide etiquette to feel someone up, Claire.”

“But what if I asked? What does etiquette dictate then?”

He laughed. “As your guide, I would, of course,” he said, in overly earnest tones, “have to comply with your desires to the very best of my ability. It’s in the rule book.”

“Oh, yeah?” Claire wiggled her hips against him. This was promising; the other day he’d said he liked a little kink, and this could be just the ticket… “And do you always follow the rule book, Matt?” she asked, putting it in his hands.

“Always,” he said, kissing her softly. “Never leave home without it.”

"I approve," she replied and then kissed him, ideas spinning through her head, and drew his lower lip between her teeth for a soft nip. This was going to be fun. “Rules are _very important_.”

-

The trip to her bedroom took a long time following their made up rules. It gave her a better idea about how to make the evening’s play work. When they arrived, she sat on the bed and said, in the direction of where she knew he stood, “I need you to help me a little more.”

“Your wish is my command,” he said, his voice a soft rumble with an undercurrent of need that made her lower stomach clench.

Performing for his senses, she slowly pulled her dress off and tossed it aside.  “I need you to gather things for me.” She stroked her hand down to her panties and rubbed against it, casually.

“Uh,” he sounded strangled. “God, Claire.”

“They’re cute, too,” she said. “The panties. Yellow and white polka dot. They match my dress.”

“They feel nice too. And there’s a little bow,” he said. “Right at the hip. I like the bow.”

“Mmm.” She spread her legs, cupped and stroked herself, sighing. “Walk over to my dresser, it’s on my left, and open the top drawer.”

She followed the sound of his footsteps across the room, knowing he could move silently if he wanted to. And then smiled at the sound of the drawer opening.

Moving back to rest against the headboard and pillows, she continued. “To the right there’s a, ah”--how to describe a Feeldoe?--“dildo with a curve at the bottom and a bulb on the other end, a tube of lube, and two scarves. Bring them,” she patted the bed between her spread legs, “to me.”

Again the footsteps and his hands placing the items in front of her.

“What’s the bulb for?” he asked.

“The bulb,” Claire said, trying to hit just the right seductive tone, “is for my cunt, Matt.”

“…What does that feel like?”

“Good. I like taking equal to everything I give.”

“And the other side is for me,” he said.

“If you want it, yeah.” Paused. “Do you want it, Matt?” she asked, giving the words a little twist.

He let out a breath. “Yeah. We talked about this. Though I didn’t expect that we’d – so soon…”

“We can wait if you want,” Claire shrugged. “Are you not feeling ready?”

“No, I am. I’m ready.”

Claire frowned. “ _Ready_ ready?” Like he'd gone and done some prep work on his own?

“…yes.”

That would make things easier, but… “You said you weren’t expecting anything,” she commented, smirking. For being so big on the truth, he sure did dance around it.

“Because I wasn’t _expecting_ anything. But after we talked I did hope that maybe... something like this would happen.” He chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting the bulb thing, though. That's new.”

“You just need to get out more.”

“Or stay in. With you.”

Feeling pleased at that—she really should teach him some proper _dance_ moves sometime—she slipped her panties down her hips and removed them, trying to make the best experience out of it for him.

“Want help with that?” he offered, trying to sound smooth.

She got the panties around one ankle and negligently tossed them off the bed, smiled when the move went off without a hitch. “I’ve got it, thanks. But this next part,” she sat up on her knees in front of the items he’d retrieved. “I will need your help.”

“And the harness? Won’t you need a harness with that?”

“I _could_ manage with just the bulb,” she said, rather proud of that, “but if you’re going to want it rough…”

“Claire, have we met?” he joked.

“Yeah, and you came prepared too, so… okay.” She felt for and grabbed the two scarves. “We’ll need these.” She held one out in his direction until he took it, then put a familiar loop in one scarf and felt for the dildo, pushing it through the loop. “Push the other scarf through the same loop,” she said, holding it up.

“…okay.” There was a pause. “We’re making a harness, aren’t we? In the dark. Out of cheap scarves.”

“Yep,” she said. “They’re peacock green and blue. Look good against my skin.”

“Have you considered just buying a harness?”

“Have you tried _wearing_ one?”

“Uh, no. If you recall, I have a cock of my own.”

She smacked his arm; or tried to.

“You missed,” he sing-songed.

Claire huffed. “Well, then, help me out. Come over here so I can smack you.”

“…okay,” he breathed. And then his fingers were on hers and her hand was guided to his face.

Claire paused, feeling wrong-footed. _That_ was another game entirely. One she wasn’t going to play based on the short conversation they’d had. And certainly not when she couldn’t see to make sure she was doing it right. She stroked his face and then lowered her hand and gave him a firm smack in the arm. “Focus,” she said, “I need your help here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Tighten them so they both rest at the base of the bulb,” she said, proffering their little kinky craft experiment.

He took it and she spread her kneeling legs out wider. “Now you’re going to work that clever bulb into my cunt for me. And, Matt,” she reached up to where she remembered his face being, cupped his cheek, “make it good.”

His arms came around her, warm and strong, and he pulled her close to the edge of the bed. Then his touch was gone and, a moment, later, she felt him kiss her lower stomach, his hands stroking her thighs and ass. “What are you…” she started.

“You said ‘make it good,’” he replied, and then dipped his head to kiss her between her spread thighs and lick a tender caress across her cunt, slow and sweet.

Claire groaned, pushing her pussy against him, demanding. He licked her again, more deeply, his hands flexing over her hips. It was too much and too little; she reached out, buried her hands in his soft, lovely hair and pulled him closer, insistent as the heat tightened in her belly, making rough with him the way he liked, making him touch her just so, his lips and tongue and mouth the center of her darkened world, nothing else, just that. All hers. Her fingers dug into his hair as she fucked his mouth, pulling and pushing and demanding more, more, and his fingers dug into her hips. She started to clench and pushed it further, pushed for more and more, pressed hard against his mouth, picturing bruises on her hips.

He was there again as she went weak against him, bracing her against his strong, solid body. She kissed him on the lips and then more deeply, pressing into his mouth and the taste of herself on his tongue. He groaned, pressing up against her, his cock hard beneath the soft material of his slacks.

“Not,” she gasped, taking a hand and wrapping it loosely around his throat, pushing him as step back, “yet. Get that damn bulb inside me already.”

“Yes,” he said and braced his hand against her lower back before tenderly pressing the bulb of the Feeldoe to her. It went in easily and she had to clench to keep it in, she was so slick. “Now,” she said, “tie the one scarf around my waist so it’s secured here,” she patted his hand on her lower back. “And do it tight.” His hands moved, deftly securing the first scarf. “Take the second one and pass each end between my legs.” He did and she took over, tightening and tying each end securely to a place at either side of the first scarf.

When it was done, the comfy, secure feeling of control came over her. The scarves felt more a part of her than a harness, melding to her body, supporting her but not getting between her and her play cock. They weren’t expensive—they saw too much wear and tear for that--but they were so much softer than a store-bought harness.

“You’re – “ Matt said, and then she felt him stroke his hands all over her, hips, belly, back, and thighs, tracing the scarves and finally, gently stroking her cock. She felt it in her own pussy and _hmmed_ in the back of her throat, rubbing against him. “—beautiful,” he finished. “It suits you.”

Claire smiled. “I know…” she said, remembering standing in front of the mirror, how proud and gorgeous she looked. It was purple and it curved so elegantly up from her thighs, pretty against the peacock green and blue of the scarves. “And I can go forever.” She grabbed his waist, rubbed her cock against his thigh. “Using your body to get myself off,” she said, thrusting gently, feeling it in her cunt each time, “as many times as I want.” She felt him shiver at the suggestion and grinned. “Or I can swap this one out and be any size, any shape…”

He kissed her throat, feather light. “Claire,” he murmured, close to her ear, “are you saying yours is better than mine?”

“You have a beautiful cock, Matt,” she said, sincere.

He huffed a laugh, pressing his forehead to hers lovingly. “That’s not what I asked.”

“From a purely scientific perspective,” Claire teased, “my cunt has twice as many nerve endings. It can come over and over and over again. And, with a little ingenuity,” she reached down and gave his firm cheeks a squeeze, “I can even fuck your ass.” She leaned in close, breathing hot against his ear, and repeated: “Use your body to get myself off. Over and over.”

He drew a sharp breath that sounded like heaven to her. Then recovered. “So, it’s not a competition,” he said, dryly. “But you’re winning.”

She moved her hands to his top button and then unzipped him. “Hand me the lube and get on your knees and we’ll both be winning soon.”

He practically vibrated with excitement. “Yes, ma’am,” he said. She felt the look bottle of lube in her hand and popped the top as she heard him finish removing his slacks. Then he was on the bed and guiding her by touch up near the headboard with him.

“Are you planning to take this,” she said, making a show of slicking the dildo up with lube in firm, slow strokes, “while holding on to the headboard?”

“Yes.”

Too bad. “Okay. I was hoping to get you on your hands and knees, but I can adjust.”

Long pause. “I don’t…” he started, then stopped. She felt his body shift on the bed until he was beside her, in the position she wanted. She reached out, traced the beautiful line of his back from his neck down to his ass. She needed to do this again with the lights on so she could see him, presenting himself for her to take.

His body was tense, though, and she sighed. Between being with other women or with men who wouldn’t even consider getting fucked like this sometimes she forgot how power and penetration could play out for men, the assumptions they carried around. Maybe he’d done this before, with women or other men or both, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t told himself a story of how and under what specific conditions it was okay, and she didn’t want to hurt him by pushing the boundaries of that. Not with him being the kind of guy who would push himself too hard as a matter of course. “The other way’s just fine,” she said, making it casual and light, as light as her gentling touch against his hip.

She felt him take a deep breath and release it slowly. “I can take it,” he said. And that set alarm bells off in her head. Because Matt took way more than he should. And if this was about more than some kind of weird male pride, if he’d had a bad experience or… even if it was just pride, she cared. Limits were sacred; they didn’t have to have a good explanation or any explanation at all. Claire sighed, smoothed her hands over the planes of his body again, tenderly.

“Matt,” she said, and then kissed him the nape his neck and down the graceful curve of his spine, her hands still moving tenderly over him. “You’re beautiful to me,” she said, keeping up the touches, the gentle kisses, “you know that? Beautiful,” she said, and kissed his right shoulder blade, “special,” she kissed his left, “sweet,” she finished, hugging him close against her. She felt his whole body shudder in her embrace, and he breathed out her name, sounding dazed. They had taken a turn into deep waters, but, well… Claire thought they both needed this.  

“That’s why I want you every way I can have you –“ she said, still embracing him. “Not because you can take it. But because you’re so beautiful and special and sweet to me.” She gave his shoulder blade another kiss. “Now, don’t tell me what you can take. Tell me what would feel best.”

She felt his ribcage expand as he heaved a deep breath. “Against the headboard,” he admitted.

“Okay, then,” Claire, said, pulling back. “That’s what we’ll do.”

“No, but…” he paused. “I want to give you what you want. I want to give you this.”

“Why?” she said and touched his back so she could feel his reaction though his body, even if she couldn’t see it.

“Because I want to give you everything,” he said and Claire felt her heart jump. She knew he must have heard it and let them both have a shared moment of knowing things they weren’t ready to say yet.

“I’ll be happy either way,” she said.

“Claire,” he said, his voice taking on frustrated edge. “Please stop over-thinking this. Please fuck me on my hands and knees like you want.”

“Okay,” Claire said, trailing her hand down to stroke his ass. “Okay.” As she touched him she felt his legs spread further, and his body open and willing, if not relaxed. She reached for the lube and warmed some in her hands before pressing her finger against him. He took it easily enough, pressing back against her. She worked a second finger in and let him rock against that, stretch. He _had_ come ready. She thought about him getting ready, working himself open for her, touching himself, and moved so she was just in the right spot, still stretching him, her cock now positioned to take him when they got to that point. By the third finger they’d gotten into a nice, steady rhythm, and when she guided her cock into him he gasped but didn’t flinch, taking it slow and easy.

She pushed deeper only to feel his breath catch sharp and paused.

He made a sound like a whine in the back of his throat. “ _Claire_ …”

“It’s okay,” she said, moving again, this time slower. “Nice and slow. We’ve got plenty of time.” She patted his hip casually, like an owner with a good horse and he groaned, his body seeming to melt under her. She pushed forward more easily, surprised. Tried gentling him that way again, a stroke and a pat that said ‘good boy.’ He shivered, spreading his legs wider, taking her all the way in. The discovery made her feel like she was flying with him, up above the earth. She leaned forward, kissing the nape of his neck. “So good, Matt, you’re so good,” she whispered as her hips thrusted and her took it all so well. She felt herself tighten around the bulb of the dildo, flutters of pleasure, but kept pushing, setting the rhythm for him as she reached for his cock.

It was hot and beautiful in her hand as the lube left on her hand mixed with his pre-come. She stroked him firmly and leaned back, varying her penetration until she heard him moan aloud and felt his body react. Once she had him, she moved faster, hitting that same spot again and again as she stroked him and he cried out, his whole body spasming, his ass and legs tensing hard against her and then easing.  

Claire leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his neck. She started pulling out, only to be stopped by Matt’s hand, gripping her hip. Reaching back, she touched his hand, confused.

“You said…” his voice was rough, a little slurred, “said you’d use me.”

“Did I?”

There was a sigh. “’Over and over…’” he repeated.

At the time it had been a piece of theater, something to heighten the experience. Claire wasn’t much for your typical dirty talk, but she knew how to evoke a reaction. It was meant to be extreme, a little shocking. To having him suggest that she really… a tingle of electric energy thrilled from her pelvis down to her toes.

Claire stroked his back, considering. “But you’re done.”

He gave her hip a reassuring squeeze. “You can keep going.”

Affection and pure greed filled her heart and she chased after the feeling. She fucked him. All consideration was gone; this was just for her. There was nothing to give him, no orgasm to lead him toward. The only thing he wanted her to do was _take_ , so she did. She adjusted their angle so the fiction of her thrusts hit _her_ just right and he moved with her, spreading his legs, bracing himself. He was so beautiful. She gripped the dildo so she could rub her clit in rhythm with the fucking she was giving him and pushed on, harder, seeking the release she never got doing this. She had never fucked someone like this without it being about taking them somewhere, caring for them, this time… her body moved free, she did what she wanted, she fucked him hard and added a little swirl, a twist, to her thrusts, rubbing her clit.

“Grab my hip again,” she ordered and then his warm, calloused hand was back and, oh, he was so good, so good like this. The sound of his gasps and groans under her was sweet and the feel of his ass was sweet and his hand, encouraging her to take, take...

She heard _I want to give you everything_ in every rough breath.

She came with a laugh, thrilled to feel her whole body tighten, her pussy clench hard and tight and then, weaker but still so satisfying, again and again as she rode her pleasure out. When the storm passed, she smiled, a lingering delight still alight within her.

“Hey, Matt,” she said, carding her fingers through his soft hair.

“Hey, Claire,” he rumbled back, sighing.

“You okay down there?” she asked, still petting his hair. She yawned, lassitude settling in as the excitement began to die down. “Want me to move my lazy bones?”

“Stay as long as you like,” Matt said, and it was the sweetest thing.

That made her want to turn on the light and get a look at him. She reached over to the bedside table, found the switch. The shock of light soon passed and then there was just Matt, before her, still connected with her.

She traced her hands over the musculature of his back, admiring every plane, every motion. “God,” she breathed, “you’re so beautiful.” Then leaned down, repeated the move she’d done earlier, kissing him first at the nape of his neck, then his right shoulder blade, and finally his left. “Beautiful,” she said, savoring the words like a song, “special, sweet.”

Matt reached up, took her hand, gave it a kiss. “Are you sanctifying me, Claire?” he asked, gently, confusing her.

“What?”

“With the…” he waved his hand, making a pattern in the air, “benediction.” There was a pause that grew awkward as Claire stared down at him, too surprised to speak. Matt continued: “I mean, I _like_ it. I just wondered--”

“No, I… oh, my god.” Claire laughed. “I didn’t do that on purpose!”

“…oh. Um.”

Claire laughed again. “This is _your_ good Catholic boy influence, I know it,” she joked, lightly smacking his shoulder. “You’re stirring parts of my subconscious I put in mothballs years ago.”

“Um,” he repeated, then snickered. “Sorry?”

“But you’re not, are you?” Claire said, grinning. “For an agnostic, I sure do go for theists.” And then, in a moment that was probably sacrilegious in several faiths, she said, “I’m going to pull out now,” and they worked together to untangle themselves. When they were done, she lied on her back on the bed, worn out and happy.

“Help me get out of this,” she said, gesturing at the scarf harness and Feeldoe.

“But the lights are on,” he said, the cheeky devil, “you don’t need a guide anymore.”

Claire gave him a smack in the arm and smiled at his grin. “Help me out of this, you ingrate. I worked hard tonight!”

“Oh, did you?” he asked, making a show of moving gingerly. “I hadn’t noticed…” but his hands went to work, untying the scarves from each other, gently removing the end of the Feeldoe from her. He set it aside along with the towel they had been using and turned back to her.  He gave her lower hip a kiss and she said “Oh, no! No. If you try to make me come again I’m going to kick you.”

He seemed to consider that and, given his interest in rough play, she rephrased: “I’m going to kick you out of bed if you try to make me come again. I’m tired. And old,” she grumped. “You wore me out.”

“Terribly sorry,” he said, and then: “May I kiss your breasts?” like the unrepentant sinner he was.

“Yes, please,” Claire said, stretching languorously. His lips came, soft and sweet, and she ran her fingers through his hair as he made free with her, just enough to be good but not enough to get her hot again. She was always so determined about proper aftercare and here she was, having him put away the toys and do all the work – but she didn’t think it was wrong either. He liked her being selfish with him, and she liked it too, so it was okay.

After a while, she said: “You know, we’re going to have to have a long, probably boring conversation before we play like this again?”

He raised his head, frowning. “Why?”

“Well… I’m pretty sure you like going deeper with this stuff than I’m used to. I’m a pretty flexible dom,” she said, and then shrugged, “not trying to brag, I just am. It’s my style. But you threw me some curveballs tonight.”

He looked mortified. “Claire, I—I’m sorry, I—“

“Noo, sweetie,” she said, the endearment feeling right for the first time. She brushed his hair back from his face, cupped his jaw. “I’m not complaining. We went places tonight I’ve never been before and it was good,” she stroked his jaw, “so good. But I noticed things, you wanting more or different than I expected from our conversation. So,” she shrugged, “we talk more. And it will be even better.”

He sat back, shook his head. “What concerns me is that I didn’t notice that I was throwing you any… curveballs.”

Claire suspected as much; he wasn’t the type to make her job harder just for the fun of it. She sat up too. “So, we’ll talk.”

He frowned. “What did I do wrong?”

Oh, boy. Claire, rubbed a hand over her face. The poor guy had to be sore and as tired as she was after their athletics and here she was accidentally stepping on his guilt issues. “I’m sorry – this wasn’t the time to talk about this. You didn’t, really. We just need to work on some things. _Later_. It’s okay,” she said, “really.”

“But, I mean, did I…”

“Matt,” Claire said and then, to break him out of this, kissed his forehead, then his chest, then his right shoulder, and finally his left, a strange mirror of a pattern she’d made over her own body for so many years. She was trying to say – I give you my blessing, I give you my sanctification, whatever you need, please stop freaking out.

He went absolutely still.

“What’s wrong?” Claire said. Had her move just made things worse?

His lip quirked. He shook his head and then raised a hand, pointed toward the ceiling. “…no lightning.” Pointed pause. “Yet.”

Claire laughed and gave his shoulder another smack, since they both seemed to like that.

With tender ceremony, Matt took her hand in his, then raised it to his lips for a kiss. “I want you to know,” he said, the muscles in his neck flexing as he sought the words, “that I went somewhere I’ve never been too and you’re—you’re very…” he struggled for a moment, then leaned forward, kissed her forehead, “beautiful,” and she felt the warm tickle of his breath against her right clavicle, “special,” and then his breath against her left shoulder, “and sweet.” He bowed his head for a moment against her body, and then gave her one more kiss before pulling back.

Claire hugged him, hard. “I’m glad,” she said and then: “Now I’m going to get my lazy bones up and grab us some water and fruit. Do you want anything else from the fridge?”

Matt shook his head.  She left him with a kiss on the lips and walked to the kitchen sore but moving with the giddy thrill of what they’d done putting a spring in her steps. When she came back there was fruit and hydration and then sharing a toothbrush and then they were in the dark again, her curled up in Matt’s strong arms.

“You know,” Claire said, and then yawned hugely, the warmer, deeper dark of sleep rising around her. “God is lucky to have you.”

There was a very ungentlemanly snort of disbelief. “What?”

She snuggled deeper in his embrace, finding a comfortable spot. “When you give, you don’t hold back,” she said, and sighed. There was a long pause, a tightening of his arms around her. Sleep rose up, drawing her away. If he made a reply, she didn't hear it. 

-end-

 _Joyous we too launch out on trackless seas,_  
Fearless for unknown shores on waves of ecstasy to sail,  
Amid the wafting winds, (thou pressing me to thee, I thee to  
me, O soul,)  
Caroling Free, singing our song of God,  
Chanting our chant of pleasant exploration...

 _ _Sail Forth -- steer for the deep waters only,  
Reckless, O soul, exploring, I with thee and thou with me,    
For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared go,   
And we will risk the ship, ourselves, and all.  
__\--Walt Whitman, "Passage to India" __  



End file.
